Good Riddance
by Oblivious Obscenity
Summary: Elizabeth Feverel has been pestering Gilbert Nightray since they met. She loves him, secretly enough that the dense man doesn't notice. He just wants her gone. Well, a girl in love is an annoying thing. But in the end, will it really be a good riddance?
1. Her First Encounter

Yay Pandora Hearts. Great series. Lots of pretty characters. :) You should read it if you haven't! Scans aren't that far along yet, so it shouldn't take a long time to catch up. So, um, what's up?  
As I said before, the summary blank is really too short for a proper summary. I, personally, am a little too bitter to provide you with one in this area. Or, actually, I suck at writing summaries so I'll just let you use your imagination :) Or, better yet, read. I assume you're at least minorly interested since you're reading this. I think I'll stop ranting before that interest departs. Happy reading :)

* * *

_Will it really be a good riddance?_

**Chapter 1: Her First Encounter**

Gilbert Nightray was pacing in the narrow cobbled streets, the heels of his shoes clunking dully on the tan bricks, when he felt _it_ brush against his leg. The black-haired young man froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding, and looked down slowly. His bright yellow eyes widened in fear when he saw _it_.

A white kitten curling around his oxford-clad foot.

Letting out a frightened yell of "Cat!", Gil yanked his foot away and took several cautionary steps back

The kitten tumbled head over heels and sprawled in a position that would have broken anyone's heart. It started mewling piteously.

Gil tensed, ready to flee. His facial expression clearly betrayed his long-term phobia.

The kitten let out another pitiful sound, and Gil felt his heart shudder. Despite his fear, he started inching toward it, his trembling hands outstretched.

"Nightray!" a voice bellowed, causing him to flinch and look wildly up and down the street.

Elizabeth Feverel pushed her way between two startled women and planted herself firmly before the kitten and Gil. She was a sight to behold. Her normally delicate face had hardened into a kind of jewel-like beauty. The sheet of pale blond hair rippled in the wind like a cloak. Her blue-green eyes glittered ominously. "Caught you _in flagrante_," she declared, pointing at him with her white-gloved hand. "What do you think you're doing?"

Gil stiffened, obviously displeased and embarrassed by the young woman's appearance. "I was trying to pick up that cat," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

"Well, it looks like _you're_ the one that _made it fall down_. You can't just kick a kitten around like that!" After sticking her finger in his face and shaking it warningly, Elizabeth knelt down by the still-mewling kitten and lifted it gently. It trembled in her hands. "Poor thing," she crooned, stroking it gently.

"Beast," Gil muttered under his breath.

Elizabeth didn't ask who. She crooked her finger—she really loved hand gestures—at him and demanded, "Give me your hat, Nightray."

"My—what?"

"Hat," she repeated, holding the kitten up with one hand and gesturing again. When he made no move to take it off, Elizabeth stalked forward. Her free hand shot out and landed on the black top hat at the same time Gil raised his, and a battle of tug of war ensued.

"Let go of my hat!" Gil barked angrily.

The hat was slipping from her grip when, in an act of suicidal bravery, the kitten escaped from her hold and jumped for Gil's throat. It only got as far as the half-foot to his hand, but made up for this failure by clamping down hard on his fingers. Sharp, thin kitten teeth sliced through glove, skin, and muscle.

Gil dropped the hat and let out a pained yelp, waving his hand with abandon to shake off the cat. It went flying with a triumphant yowl.

Elizabeth caught it gently, holding the hat upside down so the kitten landed where a person's head would normally go. "Good work, little kitty," she purred.

Gil glared at her while fixing his cravat, which had come undone in his epic struggle with the kitten. He smoothed his shoulder-length wavy hair. Tiny droplets of blood stood out bright red against his white gloves like rubies. "I thought you were attending Latowidge," he said accusatorily, as though it were her fault he was ill-informed.

She pouted at him over the brim of his hat-turned-cat-basket. "I already graduated, Gilly-kins. Students at Latowidge only study there until they are eighteen. I turned nineteen more than half a year ago. Please remember the age of your own friends."

"Why would I bother remembering something like that!? Who are you calling my friend!? And what do you mean by calling me—calling me _that_!?" he said all in a rush. "It's worse than anything Ada ever—" he broke off and clapped both hands over his mouth before letting out a squeak—he'd hit his injured finger. His normally pale face had turned the color ripe cherries.

Her small, red-painted mouth twisted in a sly smile. Despite her natural tendency to want to add insult to injury, Elizabeth made no comment.

"A-Anyways," Gil stammered, running his uninjured hand through his wavy black hair, "what are you doing here?"

She threw him a confused look. "Meeting with you."

He rolled his golden eyes. "Obviously, idiot. I meant why."

Now she was really confused, and Elizabeth petted the kitten to stall for time. "Break told me," Elizabeth murmured uncertainly, "to meet you here because we were going to have a conference with some people named Oz and Alice. Wait a minute," she added excitedly because Gil's mentioning Ada had reminded her. "This wouldn't be Ada's brother, your former master, who disappeared into the Abyss?"

"He _is_ my master," Gil corrected. "But why are you talking about Break? He sent you to...? But he never told me! How do you even know him? "

Elizabeth sighed and twisted a lock of blond hair around her finger. It was a bad habit her mother abhorred. "I guess he didn't tell you I'm a member of Pandora either? It's true," she said when he looked at her doubtfully. "I even have their little medallion, see?" she added, dangling the charm before his face.

"That's not important. Where did we say he was meeting us?" he asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth tucked the charm away and resumed petting the cat to disguise how miffed she was at being dismissed so easily. "Your house."

"My house!? Like hell we are. Wait here," he ordered sharply.

Wait there? In the middle of the street, clutching the cat in the hat? He had to be kidding. Elizabeth followed, cradling the hat gently in her arms as she half-ran to keep up with his longer stride. "Will you slow down?" she panted, struggling to keep her skirts from entangling her legs.

"No," he said shortly.

_He's been going faster since he realized I'm following him_, she thought. _I wonder, is he running away from the cat or from me?_

By the time they reached Gil's house, a brick apartment building identical to those on either side of it, Elizabeth was gasping for breath. She sincerely hoped he lived on the first floor and not the fifth. "Which—floor—do—you—" she managed to moan before resuming her battle for air.

He barely glanced at her. "Top one."

"You would..." she grumbled as Gil unlocked the door and led the way up narrow flights of stairs. _Lucky thing_, Elizabeth thought at the cat she carried, which had curled up in the bottom of the hat and was now napping. _I want someone to carry me..._ Elizabeth was a slender girl but had been weak physically since she was young. Walking was all right, but she hadn't run more than the distance from her bedroom door to her bed since leaving Latowidge.

"Gil," she heard an unfamiliar voice say in surprise. "You're back already?"

The young woman looked up and saw who she knew had to be Oz Vessalius. Blond-haired and green-eyed, he looked like a younger, male version of Ada. She smiled at him.

He smiled back, appearing flattered by her attention.

"Oz," Gil demanded, "did that _thing_ turn up already?"

The young man continued smiling. "If you mean Break, he's in the living room with Alice. Is this person...?"

Gil went in without answering, but laid a hand affectionately on Oz's head before shouting angrily for Break.

She stepped forward. "I am Elizabeth Feverel. You are Oz Vessalius, yes?" She leaned down so their noses were almost touching. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time."

Oz flushed pink, gazing at her with widened bright green eyes.

She chucked him lightly on the chin and laughed softly, ruffling his hair as she passed him to go inside.

In the living room, Gil was arguing with Break, a silver-haired man with only one eye. He hid the empty socket with a thick fringe of hair, and the thought that the hair was bound to slip one day unsettled Elizabeth. But Xerxes Break was too pretty to resist looking at.

A young girl who looked to be in her teens watched them argue with relish. Her red eyes, a shade darker than Break's, glimmered mischievously. She didn't notice Elizabeth until Break said, "Ah! Our guest of honor arrives."

"Break," Elizabeth greeted. "How nice to see you."

"Likewise," Break sang. "What's that you have there?" he asked, peering down into her arms. "A cat. How cute."

"I'm thinking of giving to A"—she saw Oz waltz into the room from the corner of her eye and cleared her throat—"a certain someone." She winked at the boy.

"It looks like it's not only Miss Sharon who has a fetish for younger boys," Break murmured under his breath, and Elizabeth poked him in the ribs warningly.

Oz, who hadn't heard Break's comment, blushed and approached slowly. "It looks just like a snowflake or a drop of cream," he noted, reaching into the hat and caressing the sleeping kitten.

"Snowdrop," Elizabeth decided. Not a terribly original name for a cat. Not a terribly cat-like name, either.

"Now that we have that important matter out of the way," Gil said sarcastically, walking in with a tray of tea and sweets, "we can talk about frivolities like the illegal contractor we're hunting."

Elizabeth had to fight off a fit of laughter at the image. Her mind conjured a maid's dress and lacy bonnet, and she made a sound like a cat getting run over. That was her choking on suppressed giggles. "Well, well, well," Elizabeth drawled, "so Gilly-kins is actually _this_ kind of man."

The other girl snickered. "I like you," she declared. Her voice was low for a girl's and rough, filled with energy. She probably got on Gil's nerves. Elizabeth knew at once that they would get along. "What's your name?"

"Elizabeth."

"Alice." She snickered again. "Gilly-kins," she crowed. "Gilly-kins!"

"Damn it, you stupid rabbit!"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Rabbit" wasn't much of an insult as far as she was concerned "What's this," she interrupted Gil's third fight of the day, "I hear about an illegal contractor?"

Break grinned at her and popped a piece of candy into his mouth. She heard it clack against his teeth and winced. "They," he said, "are on an assignment to capture an illegal contractor, but unfortunately, little Gilly-kins is too incompetent to do even that!"

"That's it!" Gil snapped. "I am going to kill you!"

"No, calm down, Gil!" Oz cried, restraining the older man. "Alice, help me!"

Alice laughed evilly. "Let 'im go, let 'im go," she advised. "Let 'em finish each other off!"

Break sipped tea and ignored this spectacle. "Even you," he continued calmly, "could do better, so I'm placing you here to assist them. Even you should be fine."

Elizabeth deadpanned.

"Even you," Break went on, "can't screw up as much as Gilly-kins has."

"Thanks for the confidence..."

"Well, that's all I needed to say," Break announced, standing up with his usual willowy grace. With one hand, he scooped the still-sleeping cat out of the hat. "I'll deliver this to 'a certain someone'," he promised. Then he waved and walked to a side room. The sound of him closing the door drew the attention of Alice, Gil, and Oz, who rushed to open it.

"He's gone again!" Alice exclaimed. "What is he, a ninja?"

"He's obviously a pirate," Gil countered.

"Ninja!"

"Pirate!"

"NINJA!"

"P-I-R-A-T-E!"

Elizabeth sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oz," she said, her clear voice carrying over Alice and Gil's new dispute, "would you accompany me around the city? A tour, if you would. Site-seeing."

Oz smiled. "I'd love to, Miss Elizabeth. But I think you are the only sight I will be looking at."

Gil heard this and sputtered. "Oz is practicing to be a host," he groaned. "He really is practicing to be a host!"

Elizabeth grinned and hooked her arm through Oz's outstretched arm. "Don't forget to make us dinner, Gilly-kins!" she said as her farewell, tossing the hat at him. "Break tells me you've become a wonderful cook. If you disappointed me, I shall throw a cat at you next."

Oz closed the door and walked her out onto the street. Elizabeth thought they looked absurd; she was at least a head and a half taller than him. But she didn't pull away until they had turned onto another street. "I suppose you knew I didn't want to come out for site-seeing?"

"Yeah." Oz smiled widely, positively exuding cuteness from every pore. "I figured you'd tell me what you wanted when we were alone."

"Aren't you worried I may turn out to be an assassin or the illegal contractor himself?" she inquired, trying to keep a straight face but unable to resist a quirky smile of her own.

"Nah. You're not the type; I'm a good judge of character. So? What did you want to do?"

"How intuitive of you," she complimented him, hiding the flash of disappointment. Personality wise, he was the opposite of Ada, who invariably responded to Elizabeth's teasing with exaggerated surprise and gullibility. "Actually, Oz, I want to look for the illegal contractor."

Oz blinked his large blue eyes owlishly. "But why wouldn't we take Gil and Alice with us for this?"

"Ah," she murmured. "That's because I didn't want those two hot-heads to ruin our fun little date together."

He laughed and bowed, the perfect little host, and extended his arm again. "In that case, where would you like to go first?"

She laid her palm on Oz's proffered arm with a wry smile, no longer caring how stupid they looked. "I'd like to see the docks."

"Of course, m'lady."

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A note: Shouldn't sightseeing be siteseeing? Are you looking at sites or are you looking at sights? I guess either way it works. I guess sightseeing is more encompassing. This is really random.  
I think I'll be doing notes at the end. Is it less distracting is it more? Do people read these? I read them 'cause I guess I'm just a bored and nosy person. Whatever~  
There are so few Pandora Hearts fanfics. Now there are more :) Yay~

Thanks for reading :) And don't forget to review~ Ne?


	2. Penchant for Murder

**Chapter 2: Penchant for Murder**

Elizabeth regarded the scene before her with a kind of fascinated disgust. Fascination because, as a noble, she had been cloistered even during her education at Latowidge and had only begun to see the world this half year. Disgust because, as a noble, she was really used to much more sanitary environments.

The people at the docks ranged from the group of obviously rich merchants to their left to the dirty street urchins to the squalid homeless individuals begging for pennies by the wharf. Elizabeth had never seen so many different people. Indeed, she'd never seen so many people gathered in one place. She clapped her gloved hands together with a soft exclamation. They'd come to the right place.

Oz, for his part, was doing his best to look in all directions at once. Though he didn't look as overwhelmed as Elizabeth felt, she knew he had to be having a similar awakening. Noble parents had a thing against letting their children run amok in less civilized areas like the dock.

"Wow," Oz said softly, watching a street entertainer spit fire.

"Yuck," Elizabeth muttered as one of the many bustling bodies around them spit, well, spittle on her foot. She tried to scrape the mess on the stones beneath their feet but failed.

The fire-breather didn't hold her attention for long, and she glanced around. The shadows behind a tall pile of sandbags caught her eye. _Typical_, she thought. "If we stay in the middle of the road, we'll get trampled," Elizabeth said, guiding Oz over to where the merchants were gathered.

One of them took a step back, treading on Elizabeth's feet. She winced and stumbled into a large-bellied and slope-shouldered man dressed in all black. "Watch where you're going," he grumbled, fixing her with a black glare.

Elizabeth tried to smile politely. "I am very sorry." _Your companion is as heavy as a rhinoceros and walks just as lightly_, she thought. Some of this must have come across in her eyes, for the man muttered something to his friend and cracked his knuckles.

"Go back to your pander, girl." He spat at her. The people at the docks seemed to have a real fondness for spitting. Luckily, his aim was bad and the unsanitary projectile missed Elizabeth and hit a passing man.

"Time to go," Elizabeth murmured to Oz, pulling him away discreetly as fists began to fly. She kept a close watch on the brawl, which grew exponentially as more bystanders were hit, and backed away to what she judged a safe distance out on one of the wooden piers. "What a view," she said blandly after she'd climbed up onto a large wooden crate.

Oz laughed nervously, rubbing his arm where someone's stray fist had hit him. "Shouldn't we try to...?"

"Try to stop it? Oh, no. Such a convenient fight makes finding the illegal contractor much easier."

"It does?"

"Contractors," she explained, "even ones who use Pandora's safer method, have a penchant for violence, murder in particular. He'll come out," she concluded confidently.

Elizabeth had incapacitated more illegal contractors for Pandora than she cared to remember. She knew the warning signs to look for—the undulating, pulsating shadows, the inherent repulsion, the sudden dip in temperature.

Her turquoise-colored eyes raked over the scene and landed on a stooping, heavy-set man swathed in a dirty brown cloak that slunk just out of range of the fight. "Bingo," she breathed. She briefly contemplated shooting him from there, but slid down and broke into a trot.

Oz followed obligingly.

She stepped in front of the cloaked man, whom she suspected was the illegal contractor. "Isn't it a nice day, sir?" she chirped.

The man barely glanced at her. "Move," he ordered in a shaking voice. "You're blocking my view of the fight."

Elizabeth smiled, pulling out a small revolver and leveling it at his forehead. "I have your fight here," the young woman said, and she pulled the trigger.

There was the explosive boom and screams of "Run away!" from behind them as the fight broke apart and people scattered. But the illegal contractor didn't fall over and die. Instead, he grinned maniacally, revealing very white teeth that didn't match his shabby appearance.

Oz looked from the smoking gun to the man and then up at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth ran one gloved hand through her long blond hair. "Ah, this can't be good," she speculated cheerfully.

"Are you out of bullets?" the green-eyed boy asked, sounding almost hopeful.

"Mmm, not at all. The bullet fired all right, but it was stopped." She watched the still-grinning contractor closely. He was unstable, no doubt about it, and probably close to his limit. "He'd already called his chain. Isn't that right, Mister Illegal Contractor?"

The fat man giggled. "That's right," he crowed. "And now Serpentes is going to eat you! With your lives, I'll finally have enough to see them again!"

Elizabeth jumped back when she heard a dangerous hiss from below, narrowly escaping the wide, gaping jaws of a creature that vague resembled a giant black serpent. She shouted something—she wasn't even sure what—at Oz and fired at it twice in quick succession.

The bullets were way off target, but still Serpentes' tail whipped out to catch them. The chain slithered around her in a tight circle. Its forked tongue flicked out to lick her ankle but was blasted off before it reached. The snake let out a loud hiss of pain and anger.

"Your aim is still awful, Feverel," an amused voice said from behind her.

Elizabeth didn't have to turn; she recognized the voice. "So are your stalking skills, Gilly-kins."

There was another gunshot, and then Gil swore, "Dammit!"

Then the air around them seemed to freeze, and Elizabeth heard arrogant laughter that was both Alice's and that of a monster entirely different. Though she would have liked to see the Bloodstained Black Rabbit in action, Elizabeth advanced upon the illegal contractor.

His mud-colored eyes went wide with fear, and he took several stumbling steps back. "N-no!" he cried, eyes fixed on the gun she still held. "Don't come closer! I want to see them—I want to bring them back."

Elizabeth regarded the man silently and almost felt bad for him. But she felt a whole lot worse for those he had killed in his fruitless quest.

"Serpentes!" he called out desperately, still backing away.

Elizabeth waited until he was backed against the grimy brick wall before aiming the revolver at his chest. Instead of firing, she pushed aside the folds of his cloak to reveal the clock face-esque seal. The needle had nearly completed a full revolution. "You have one minute," she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the sounds of fighting. "I'll let you chose—die here or in the Abyss?"

Beads of perspiration stood out against the man's pallid skin and rolled down his face. He might have been crying. His mouth twitched, dying to grin despite the situation. "Please," he begged her, "please."

"Choose," she ordered harshly. "Or B-rabbit will for you. Your chain won't last."

"I don't want to die."

"To die by my hand or to be dragged into the Abyss... I am offering you a choice because I believe it is not too late for redemption." Elizabeth let contempt fill her voice. "It's more than you gave any of your victims."

"But I just wanted to bring them back! They never should have died," he roared, his eyebrow joining the corner of his mouth in a twitching dance. "I only need a few more lives, and then I can change it—I'll make it so it never happened!"

"No. The past can never be changed, no matter what deceitful promises your chain made, no matter how sated it is with blood. Your chain was using you from the beginning—ever since your longing to turn back the clock, your despair and your desire, called it from the Abyss."

"No, no, no... Then how can I...? They..."

"I don't know where people go when they die, but you have a better chance meeting 'them' again in the next life. Ten seconds."

An unexpected calm seemed to come over the illegal contractor, and his facial muscles relaxed. His eyes closed. "That's right," he murmured, his fingers brushing over the exposed seal. "That's right." He took a step forward so the seal was pressed against the mouth of her gun. The needle was starting to move. "Then kil—"

She fired. There was really no way the bullet could miss. It pierced straight through his heart and punched a fist-sized hole in his back on the way out. Blood splattered over the wall, the ground, and Elizabeth. The body swayed on the spot for a moment and fell.

Elizabeth turned away, clutching her right arm tightly. Her arm trembled. Her fingers were numb from the kickback.

Gil, of course, grabbed that arm as she attempted to walk past him. He looked furious. "Why did you kill him?" the black-haired young man demanded. "His chain was being defeated. Wasn't our objective to capture the illegal contractor?"

Elizabeth pulled her arm free and blew on her fingers, trying to return feeling to them. "I was hoping B-rabbit's power would finish off his chain more quickly. There was no time. He was going to be dragged into the Abyss. And even if he had survived, what does an illegal contractor have to live for? The very reason they contract with a chain in the first place is because the present and future hold nothing for them. He was half-crazy as it was. All he would become is Pandora's research. Think of it as a mercy killing."

Gil was watching her, his golden eyes serious. "You knew who the illegal contractor was. If you didn't want to destroy the chain, why did you approach instead of shooting him when you first saw him?"

Elizabeth sighed. "If possible, I had wanted to save him."

"You just said..."

"All right, fine, that wasn't it," she admitted reluctantly. Elizabeth gave a sheepish shrug. "Honestly, my aim is too poor to hit a target so far."

Gil deadpanned. "...something like that."

"Besides," she said, brighten quickly and grinning, "I thought you two might take care of it for us; I knew you wouldn't be able to resist following your precious master out. Really, your devotion borders on obsession. Unfortunately, it seems like Break was right: You are truly **utterly useless**!"

Gil turned purple.

"I am going back before the police get here. I hope you have enough time to make something good for dinner." She started to walk away but stopped when she drew level with Oz.

The blond was staring down at the bloody body, green eyes wide, expression unreadable. "He wanted to die...?"

Elizabeth patted him on the head. "I told you, didn't I? Contractors have a penchant for murder." She rested a hand over his heart where she knew the seal was tattooed onto his skin. "That, well, _appetite_ comes from the chain. You aren't excepted, Oz. Gilly-kins sealed the Bloodstained Black Rabbit's power, but you should be careful. Or 'Alice' will eat you up."

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**It's Author Rant Time...!**

So... there's a bit of a plot hole in Pandora Hearts. Or, at least, I think there is. How do illegal contractors make a contract with a chain in the first place? Chains can't leave the Abyss without a contract, but how do they find a contractor? In Oz's case, he was already in the Abyss because of the Baskerville people. I can't imagine all illegal contractors were pulled into the Abyss.  
Which is why I've made up my own sort of explanation: When a person wants to change the past with such strength, a temporary connection between the Abyss and the real world appears. A chain uses this to contact that potential contractor and possibly contract.  
But it's possible that none of this is relevant. I really don't remember if it was stated specifically in the manga ^-^;  
Ah, this chapter, ah... Sorry it's so rushed and... not good.  
Sorry this chapter is even shorter than the first one! T_T In my initial intentions, it was longer but then... well, I don't usually follow my plans *sweat* Especially schedule wise, but I am going to try hard to have chapter 3 up soon...! I have to write it first, though. Hmm...  
Also, I just noticed I used sooo many ellipses. There're all over the place!  
Did you like it? **Review!** Do you have questions? **Review!** Did you hate it? **Review anyways! **But I'd appreciate it if the criticism were constructive and not... "This sucks, go die!" or something *sweat*

Gilly-kins begs you :)


	3. Intention

**Excuse Corner**

I have a good reason for being away so long, I swear. All right, maybe not. I have been writing. For an original story, which is totally not kick arse and uncool, but which I was really into. It will never find it's way to fanfiction for the pure reason that it's not, well, fanfiction. But that's just so you know I haven't been not writing entirely. Sorry, I apologize for not updating for so long. T_T Are we good? I hope so.  
Onto the chapter.

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**Chapter 3: Intention**

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when, for absolutely no acceptable reason, Elizabeth opened her eyes. She gazed sightlessly up at the dark ceiling with blue eyes still glazed with sleep, slow to realize she was actually awake. Faint images, memories from her already-lost dream, darted across her mind.

Elizabeth frowned as she tried to dredge up the dream. But the harder she tried to remember, the more quickly the details slipped away—an infuriating trait copyrighted by dreams. There had been the blurred-out girl with perfect, snow-white features, sadness in the air, an irresistible compulsion to laugh or scream or break into tears, the inexorable fear that had filled her chest when the beautiful figure had reached out to her.

She hit herself on the head with the fluffy pillow, trying both to beat the hazy images out of her brain and to focus them. "Stupid dream," the tousle-haired blonde whispered.

"I want the pot roast and meatloaf," Alice said clearly, her unexpected voice making Elizabeth freeze.

Elizabeth peered over at the other girl, but Alice was fast asleep. The young girl rolled over and started snoring, a line of drool running from the corner of her mouth. If Elizabeth hadn't known she was the Black Rabbit, she'd never have believed it. Alice was so much more human than other chains. She dreamt about pot roast, for goodness' sake.

Elizabeth crawled out of bed and yawned as she pulled on clean clothing. Her trunk hadn't arrived yet, and she'd been forced to borrow from the only person in the house who wasn't shorter than her. Gil's white shirt hung off her slim frame like a dress and hung to her knees. She tied a cravat around her waist as a belt and another around her neck to close the slitted collar. It was an absurd outfit. There had been better-dressed workers at the docks.

_If only Mother could see me now, _she thought with a strained smile as she looked herself up and down. It wasn't just her "fashion statement". There were dark circles under her eyes from weeks of stress. She was too thin, same reason, and looked as lively as a corpse. She could almost be jealous of Alice and her feasting dreams.

"Leave the bottle," said Alice, and Elizabeth stifled a laugh as she tiptoed out of the room.

The major drawback of waking up at dawn in someone else's house is that there's nothing to do but wait for the hosts to wake up. That is, if you are a polite guest. Elizabeth wasn't shy about rummaging through the cupboards and, finding no food, she settled on tea. She put a kettle of water on the stove and paced around the small flat as she waited for it to boil.

The door opened as she passed it, smacking her squarely on the forehead. Elizabeth let out a decidedly unfeminine grunt as she fell onto her butt and rubbed her throbbing head.

"Sorry!" exclaimed the black-coated figure that'd come in. "Are you all rig—oh, it's _you_."

She picked herself up—Gil didn't offer her any help—and ran her thin fingers through her hair. "It is common courtesy to knock before you enter someone's house, Nightray," Elizabeth reprimanded.

"This is my house," he retorted as he shed his long black overcoat and top hat. He hung the coat in the closet by the door and rolling the hat between his hands before placing it on the closet shelf. He was almost compulsive with his neatness.

She smiled. "Ah, so it is."

"Why are you still here?" he grumbled, stomping past her and placing a large brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. "We got the illegal contractor."

Elizabeth drifted over to him, running her hand over the back of the damask couch as she passed it. She took small steps, as though she were still wearing a dress, and grinned as she watched his impatience mount. "Well," she said slowly when she finally made it to the kitchen, "I haven't given you the message yet, have I?"

"What message? You never mentioned a message."

Elizabeth peered inside the paper bag—groceries, probably for breakfast. "I'm sure I did."

"No, you didn't." Gil said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He uncrossed his arms half a second later to snatch the bag away from her. He wasn't amused, or he just hid that very well with a glare if he was.

"Well, that's not like me, is it?"

"That's exactly like you."

"So it is."

"Well, what is the message?"

"There is no message."

Gil took a deep breath, his chest expanding like a bullfrog's, and held it for a count of fifty. When his face was starting to turn a deep shade of purple, he turned his back on her and started pulling out pots and pans to make breakfast. Evidently, he wasn't willing to continue their conversation.

Elizabeth watched him unload the groceries and clicked her tongue in disapproval. "No vegetables, no milk, no eggs..." She ticked the list off on her fingers and shook her head. "Really, Nightray, are you trying to kill us through malnutrition?" She snapped her fingers to get his attention because he was ignoring her and held out her hand.

Gil stared at her outstretched fingers, thick black eyebrows contracted. He'd develop wrinkles at an early age if he wasn't careful.

"Your purse," Elizabeth requested, rubbing her thumb over her first two fingers in the universal gesture that meant _gold, glorious gold!_. "You can't expect me to live off dried food."

"I didn't expect you to live here at all," he grumbled, pulling out a plain drawstring purse and dropping it into her palm. "Don't spend too much."

"Stingy husband," she sniffed, smiling as she tucked the purse into her belt.

Gil grunted and said as she was closing the door behind her, "And don't be like that stupid rabbit, buying precooked food."

"Whatever you say, dear Gilly-kins."

"I'll lock you out!" he threatened.

Elizabeth laughed and closed the door, waiting for the sound of the lock clicking. She hid her sadness with another laugh when Gil fulfilled her expectations. Maybe Oz or Alice would be awake by the time she got back and open the door for her. She walked away from the flat, sighing, and nearly ran into a short, white-haired girl who unexpectedly stepped out from behind a street vendor when Elizabeth turned the corner. "Excuse me," Elizabeth said politely.

The girl regarded her stiffly. Her blue-and-white dress was indecently short. Even her bell sleeves were longer. She stepped closer to Elizabeth, until her nose was almost touching Elizabeth's necktie. "Lady Elizabeth Feverel?"

Elizabeth stepped back and gave a little bow. She'd have felt silly curtsying while wearing a man's shirt. "Yes."

The stranger turned on her heel and started walking away. "Please follow Echo."

After a moment's consideration, Elizabeth did so without asking questions. Echo didn't seem at all menacing. The girl gave off the aura of a babysitter who has been thoroughly exhausted by her charges.

They walked without talking for several minutes. Echo led her to a large, mostly deserted park just outside the bustling capital. A few couples sat on the scattered benches, enjoying the sunrise. A man lay alone on the bench closet to them, his pale gold hair spilling across black great coat-clad shoulders.

Elizabeth looked from the sleeping man to Echo, who had approached to shake him awake. She turned, following the animal instinct that told her to run, but a chilling voice called out to her before she could escape.

"How kind of you to come out for me, Lady Elizabeth."

She rotated slowly, dreading the inevitable encounter.

Sanity's worst nightmare, Vincent Nightray, smiled at her from the bench. His golden eye—the same shade as Gil's—twinkled while the ruby-red of his other eye seemed to scream for her blood.

"Vincent, I mean, Lord Vincent," Elizabeth said, her voice climbing half an octave. The voice—and its owner—made her skin crawl. She struggled to find polite to say. "How..." _Pleasant? Unexpected? _Neither of those was true.

Well-spoken and posh with gentle, effeminate features, Vincent had the appearance of a soft, mildly boring aristocrat. You wouldn't know it to look at him that the adopted Nightray was a creepy slimeball.

Vincent pulled Echo onto his lap and rested his chin on the top of her head. His arms were wrapped around her narrow waist. Echo didn't pull away or protest, but she didn't look happy about it. Her deadpan stare was fixed on the long, hanging branches of the weeping willow a few meters forward of the bench.

The blond-haired Nightray murmured into the top of her head, smiling blissfully. "Come sit down," he said, unwinding on arm and patting the empty space beside him.

He was a freak, but he was also the son of one of the four dukes. There was no way she could refuse him. Elizabeth took a seat beside him, trying her best to ignore the warning bells sounding in her head.

He scooted closer to her, watching her closely for any sign of fear. She couldn't tell from his expression if he found what he wanted. Finally, after subjecting her to a purely visual search that would have shamed most security guards, he said, "I hear you have begun cohabiting in my dear brother's home." Vincent cupped her chin in his hand. Despite his smile, Elizabeth could see the hatred and disgust in his eyes. That he could even bring himself to touch her was a testimony to his willpower.

_Or to his insanity_. Elizabeth tried quell the anger and fear rising in her. She shifted on the bench until there was enough space for a third person between them. "I live there for the time being," she told him with all the dignity she could muster. "I apologize if that upsets you, but it was a decision made by my superiors." By superiors, she meant Xerxes Break. Naming the one-eyed man would only provoke Vincent. But if she thought diplomacy would mollify him, she was wrong.

"Foul temptress," he snarled, grabbing a fistful of her long blond hair with one hand and hitting her hard in the chest with the other.

Elizabeth cried out, mostly in shock, as the force of his blow pushed her off the edge of the bench. He released his grip on her hair as she fell, ripping his hand away with a lock of hair. None of it hurt too badly, but her pride would need stitches.

Vincent stood, giving Echo a little push so she moved out of his way. His was wearing his mask of polished gentleman again, smiling as he reached out a hand to help her up.

Elizabeth glowered at him from her sprawled position on the dewy grass, feeling the cold water spread across her shirt like blood under a murder victim. Humiliated, frightened, and angry, She refused his hand and pushed herself to her feet. Her limbs trembled with the extent of her hatred for the Nightray. Her hands curled into useless fists.

Unruffled, Vincent said, "I won't warn you again about poking your nose too deep into what you should not."

"I've always minded my own business," she replied, forcing her naturally lilting voice into a cold, hard monotone. Well, that was essentially a lie. The curious mind never rests, after all, not even when threatened by a psychopath with a powerful family.

He smiled never wavered as he walked past her, beckoning Echo to follow. "Farewell, Lady Elizabeth. Beware of wonder."

She turned to keep him in her vision, absently rubbing the still-tingling area on her scalp where previously a lock of hair had been. She was smiling now, too. Pandora's games, Break's games, Vincent's games—life was so much interesting with them. "Vincent," she called on impulse. "Shall I give your regards to Alice?"

Vincent paused, a tiny break in his usual stride, and resumed his lazy strolling pace before too long. His tone was light and grateful when he said, "I would appreciate it."

Elizabeth was still smiling in his direction when she heard an unfamiliar falsetto voice say from behind her, "He's a creepy bastard!" She whirled, hand jumping to the belt around her waist before she remembered she wasn't carrying a weapon. But it was only Break, pushing aside the weeping willow's long branches as he reprimanded the speaker. The voice had been Emily's, of course. The long-haired doll that sat on Break's shoulder like a pet was the creepiest of them all.

"Break," she sighed, hastily shoving the purse she'd pulled out in lieu of a weapon back into the folds of the cloth belt. Elizabeth didn't know what she'd planed to do with it—toss coins at an attacker in hopes of buying him off? "What a surprise. And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Break didn't answer. He didn't answer because he couldn't answer because he had just realized the absurdity of her outfit and was collapsed on the grass in laughter. Emily had fallen off and, though its face was always fixed in a taunting grin, Elizabeth had the impression that the doll was laughing at her, too.

"Vincent Nightray is unstable," she said, too impatient to wait for Break to finish fooling around

Break stood, brushed off his clothes, and placed Emily gently on his shoulder. "Of course he is. Is that truly the extent of your usefulness? You didn't even bring the contractor back to Pandora."

"All that ado about the illegal contractor... I know you only placed me in Gilbert Nightray's house to provoke his brother." She lifted an eyebrow expectantly as she waited for Break to contradict her.

"Ah, speaking of provoking, I ought to congratulate you for his reaction when you mentioned Alice."

"I learned from the best."

"Not well enough, I see. Flattery will earn you no more information from _me_."

"Woe be the day when Xerxes Break is honest about his motives." Elizabeth imitated a Victorian lady having airs and grinned. Very unladylike. She could act that way around Break, no problem. He wasn't a peer, he was just a Pandora goon who liked to toy with people. "But concerning Alice..."

"She appears very human?" Break guessed.

"Yes. More so than some humans." Elizabeth angled her blue eyes in the direction Vincent had left to make her meaning clear. She continued pensively, "Even monsters aren't monsters all the time."

Break looked at her in a way that made her imagine he could see right down into the inner workings of her mind. He probably could. It was what made him so good at what he did. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Is that the reason you assigned me here, to reinforce a lesson?" When Break didn't reply, she added, "It doesn't bother me if you want to use me, Break, you know that."

"It doesn't now. It may later. Perhaps even soon."

"No, it won't. Not so long as I get what I want."

Break's solemn expression broke into a beam, like a proud father. "A woman after my own heart." His smile faded, making Elizabeth wonder what serious, important matter he would bring up next, but all he said was, "Before I go, Lady Sharon wanted me to ask why you won't return her letters."

"She hasn't been receiving them?" Elizabeth said in mock surprise, winking. "There must be a problem with the post."

"She may hit you with her harisen the next time you visit."

"Please tell her I look forward to our next meeting."

Break nodded. He raised a hand and used two fingers to make Emily's limp arm move in the vague approximation of a wave. Then he backed through the curtain of willow branches and was hidden from sight. He had always been bad at goodbyes.

* * *

**Author Corner**

Urgh, Vincent. ~_~ Hate him. Sure, he's a victim of his circumstances, but why does he have to be so... augh XD; The thing that's weird with him is that he beats people physically and mentally. Usually the bad guys settle on one or the other. Bleargh. He really hates Elizabeth. Poor girl.  
And you may be able to tell... I love Break. Break is awesome. In that above love sort of way.  
You'd (I'd) think I wouldn't like Break because of his intrinsic parallels with Vincent, but I love him. I like to draw connections between people. You can probably see it in this chapter. What can I do, ah...

Again, sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I hope to get back to updating a story once a week, but, well, we'll see.  
Thanks for all your reviews and encouragement and for reading! Been a while since I wrote GR, so... is the chapter all right? How's Vincent's character? Please help me improve my writing :3


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